Featherlight Taction

What if I wanted to break
Laugh it all off in your face
What would you do?
What if I fell to the floor?
Couldn't take this anymore
What would you do,do,do?

Come break me down
Bury me, bury me
I am finished with you

What if I wanted to fight
Beg for the rest of my life
What would you do?
You say you wanted more
What are you waiting for?
I'm not running from you

Come break me down
Bury me, bury me
I'm finished with you
Look in my eyes
You're killing me, killing me
All I wanted was you

I tried to be someone else
But nothing seemed to change
I know now, this is who I really am inside
Finally found myself
Fighting for a chance
I know now, this is who I really am

Come break me down
Bury me, bury me
I am finished with you,you, you
Look in my eyes
You're killing me, killing me
All I wanted was you

Come break me down
Break me down
Break me down

What if I wanted to break?


What if I wanted to break
Laugh it all off in your face
What would you do?
What if I fell to the floor?
Couldn't take this anymore
What would you do,do,do?

Come break me down
Bury me, bury me
I'm finished with you

What if I wanted to fight
Beg for the rest of my life
What would you do?
You say you wanted more
What are you waiting for?
I'm not running from you

Come break me down
Bury me, bury me
I am finished with you
Look in my eyes
You're killing me, killing me
All I wanted was you

I tried to be someone else
But nothing seemed to change
I know now, this is who I really am inside
Finally found myself
Fighting for a chance
I know now, this is who I really am

Come break me down
Bury me, bury me
I am finished with you, you, you
Look in my eyes
You're killing me, killing me
All I wanted was you

Come break me down
Break me down
Break me down

What if I wanted to break?

-30 Seconds to Mars – The Kill

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Featherlight Taction

Chapter 7- Criterion

Severus Snape trekked slowly up the alabaster steps of Malfoy Manor, his ebony hair twisting around his head in the soft wind. His face was chilled and blank as ever as he stared at the mahogany doors for a moment, seemingly contemplating something. With one arm he grabbed his heavy traveling cloak and pulled it more closely around him. With the other, he rapped solidly on the door three times and waited until it was answered by no other than Draco Malfoy.

The boy was tall and lean and the days had worn on him. He face was narrow and much bonier than before. He’d grown pale and weary, and his silver eyes stared at nothing, as if he was blind. Severus felt some amount of pity for him. The young Malfoy had taken the Dark Mark to sate the Dark Lord, but he had not wanted to; not in the least.

The potions master mustered a sort of half smile for his godson and nodded curtly at him. Draco stepped aside to allow him entrance.
”Why are you answering the door, Draco?” Severus inquired as he stepped onto the gorgeous marble floors. It had been a long time since he’d been here.
”All the elves have gone,” Draco murmured softly, shutting the front doors. “Father let them go when I was twelve. I don’t know why, though.”

Severus nodded. Had it really been five years since he’d set foot in Malfoy manor? Yes, it had really been that long. He asked the teen where his father was and the platinum blonde pointed towards the study to the left of the winding staircase of the entranceway.

Snape followed the slim finger and stepped softly onto the plush carpet of the illustrious study. Lucius Malfoy definitely had impeccable taste—the kind of taste that could only come with money. He smirked at the sight of his old friend in an armchair, reading glasses perched upon his slender nose and staring down into a book. The elder Malfoy never admitted to needing glasses. Only his family and Severus knew of this imperfection.

Said Malfoy looked up, his gray eyes widening slightly in surprise at seeing Snape. A smile curled onto his pale face and he set his book down. He rose gracefully and crossed the room in three swift steps. His long blonde hair was tied back and it cascaded down his back. He tilted his head and opened his arms in welcome that was an uncustomary display of kindness for a Malfoy.

“Old friend,” he practically purred. “What could possibly have brought you here?”

Snape clasped his hands on either shoulder of Lucius briefly and he followed the man into the study to sit. Crossing his legs, Lucius stared at Severus expectantly.

“I’m here to talk about something regarding the lion,” the raven-haired man said cryptically.

Immediately, Lucius’ face turned serious and he stood, glancing around at the fireplace, mirror above it, and the doorway in quick succession. He removed his ebony wand from his staff and flicked the snake-headed stick at the fireplace. The flames died the wood went cold. He then cast a silencing charm on the door and a disillusionment on the mirror. Sliding the wand back into its holster, his sat back down smoothly. “Speak,” he said simply.

“Ah, so he watches you through the mirror now, I see,” Severus stated, observing the antique above the hearth.

Lucius nodded. “It’s a looking glass of sorts. He uses it to check in on me,” he muttered with a grimace. “You think that after all the loyalty I’ve shown him he would trust me a sliver more than he does, but alas.” He shook his head in dismissal.

“The Dark Lord trusts no one but himself,” Snape answered, looking at the blonde and steepling his fingers under his chin. “Now, about Potter.”

Lucius’ eyes narrowed. They deduced long ago to refer to Harry Potter as the lion, deeming it fitting. Only the two of them new of this code. Not even Lucius’ wife was in on the secret, as they were not sure of her true loyalties. Draco remained uninformed due to his age and poor Occlumency skills.

They’d established, after many quiet and secretive battles of mentality, that both Lucius and Severus were not truly loyal to the Dark Lord. Severus had stayed in the ranks for the sake of Albus Dumbledore and the idea of future redemption. Lucius had remained out of fear and the necessity to protect his family.

Neither of them liked Harry Potter. In fact, they were both severely annoyed with the brat and regarded him with the utmost distaste; but they did have an unspoken confidence in the young wizard; a confidence that one day Harry would defeat Voldemort and save them all. As such, they’d worked for years to protect the boy, and they were confident that their efforts had not yet been noticed by their master.

“I am sure you are aware that the Dark Lord decided to pay Potter a visit,” Severus began. Lucius nodded almost imperceptibly. “At the encounter, a most peculiar thing happened. He has not discussed this incident with anyone but those who were present and myself.” Lucius nodded again. This meant that he would not be able to admit to being aware of the situation. Simple enough.

“I do not understand what happened,” Snape said, frowning, “But the Dark Lord has requested... or ordered, rather, that I deduce the reasoning behind the situation. Apparently, from what he has told me, when he touched Potter his own body underwent a sort of transformation.”

The elder Malfoy twitched slightly. This sounded most intriguing. “Is the transformation still in effect.

“No. That’s the most perplexing part. As soon as he was no longer in physical contact with the boy, he returned to normal.” Severus rubbed his forehead in exasperation. “The Dark Lord is furious. He believes that Potter has learned an ancient magic of some sort; one that the Dark Lord himself is not even familiar with. For all I know, that may be the case.”

Lucius turned towards the lifeless fireplace in thought. This was not good. A threatened Voldemort was a dangerous ones. He would most likely attempt to attack Potter out of fury for his lack of knowledge. That simply would not do. It was not yet time. “Explain this transformation to me,” he prompted, turning back to the other wizard.

“From what I heard, the Dark Lord became what he referred to as ‘normal’,” Severus stated lamely, raising his palm in a sort of shrug. “He said that he’d had hair, and nose, and skin like the rest of us.”

Lucius couldn’t help but chuckle. The Dark Lord with a nose? Unthinkable!

“I do not think that Potter did this to him on purpose,” Snape continued. “I know the boy well enough to understand that he is not capable of such magic. At least not purposefully. I believe that the boy is most likely just as confused as the Dark Lord.”

“If the boy does not know what happened, how are we to find out ourselves?” Malfoy questioned, looking pensive.

“Potter was at Hogwarts when this took place,” Severus responded, shifting in his seat. “I know for a fact that he no longer attends the school, so he must have been there for a purpose. Perhaps if we find out that purpose, we can find out what happened to cause this. We know full well that he and the Dark Lord have some sort of connection. Though the Dark Lord speaks very little of it, I’ve gathered enough to know that it’s mostly mental. Perhaps the boy accidentally breached the physical aspects of the bond.”

Lucius stroked his smooth chin and sighed. “How do you suggest we enter Hogwarts unnoticed? Dumbledore may be gone, but it is still very well protected.”

Severus chuckled, earning a surprised look from his comrade. “I never said that we would go as ourselves,” he whispered, a glint in his dark eyes.

Lucius’ eyes gleamed. For a moment, he felt as if he and the sallow man before him were once again schoolboys, planning some wicked scheme to trick the professors of Hogwarts.

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Harry’s shoes clapped against the stone ground, inaudible within the chatters of the crowds of witches and wizards around them. Hermione had cast a Notice Me Not charm on him so that he could walk alongside them without being bothered or easily spotted. Only if someone was looking directly for Harry would they be able to see him, and seeing as absolutely no one would expect the Boy-Who-Lived to be wandering idly down Diagon Alley, they figured this was foolproof enough.

They stopped by Quality Quidditch Supplies first and Hermione lingered back as the boys “Oohed” and “Awwed” and rolled her eyes in amusement as they poked and prodded all the brooms they could find. After they had their fill, the dropped by Flourish and Blotts and it was the boys’ turn to stand back with their arms crossed impatiently as Hermione breathed excitedly over numerous books.

Finally, they found themselves at the Apothecary and Hermione fussed over ingredients and pre-made potions, searching for the necessary additions to the potions they would need for the rest of their journey. Healing potions, polyjuice, and other dark magic inhibitors.

When she was finally done, Harry gave her the necessary money to purchase the items and they left, chattering happily to one another. The relief of being out of their house at Grimmauld Place and in a familiar area from their childhood was relaxing and almost satisfying. They felt happy and comfortable for the first time in weeks.

“Let’s stop to get ice cream,” Ron suggested.

“Is food all you ever think about, Ronald?” Hermione chided, grinning at the redhead.

Ron nodded decisively. “A wizard has to eat. It’s necessity, Hermione.”

Harry smiled at his two best friends and followed them to the ice-cream parlor. He stepped aside to let his friends enter and started up the stairs himself, caught short when a tiny hand grabbed his shoulder. Rattled, Harry turned to see a little old lady staring triumphantly up at him. She had a maroon shawl over her shoulders and her wispy gray hair was pulled back into a ridiculously tight bun. She smiled and Harry cringed. She was missing most of her teeth and the ones that remained were glossy and yellow.

“Um.. can I help you?” Harry asked, trying to tug his arm away.

“Certainly!” she squeaked giddily. “You see, you already have helped me.” She eyed him wickedly. “By casting a Notice Me Not Charm on yourself, you’ve made it so that when I apparate you away, no one will notice.” Her toothless grin widened and Harry felt a strange sense of confused fear. Why was an old lady wanting to kidnap him? He tried to pull away again, but her grip was disturbingly strong. He felt a cold grip of panic before the lady turned on the spot and the disapparated.

Harry hated the feeling. It was like being pulled through a pipe. It was practically as bad as traveling through portkey. They stopped suddenly and Harry, dazed, staggered on his feet. When the world stopped spinning, he looked around him. The old lady was staring at him with a sort of hateful but victorious edge. He groaned when he realized where he was.

It was the graveyard from the Triwizard Tournament.

It looked different now. It was daylight and the graveyard was flooded with clear sunlight. The grass didn’t echo an eerie blue-gray like before and there was no mist floating above the headstones. That didn’t make the place any less chilling. Harry shivered and looked back at the woman, who, he realized with an unsurprised horror, was beginning to grow taller, her flesh bubbling.

It wasn’t unexpected when Lord Voldemort slowly appeared before him, but he still felt sick with fear and confusion, nonetheless. He felt a stab of anger and venom.

“I didn’t know you like to cross-dress, Tom,” He said tauntingly, knowing it was not best to provoke him, but not really caring.

Voldemort’s smirk changed to a nasty frown and he waved his hand, transfiguring the old lady’s dress back to his ghostly black robes.

“Well since the muggle is now dead, I didn’t see that she would need her garb any longer,” Tom hissed, the slits he had for a nose wrinkling with disdain.

Harry frowned. “That’s how you fix everything isn’t it?” Harry growled, “Kill anything that moves.”

The Dark Lord did not deem the comment worthy of a response. Instead, he began to walk around the graveyard, his strut reminiscent of the night three years ago. Harry watched him cautiously, drawing his wand and preparing for whatever the man was about to do. Why had he brought no Death Eaters this time? Harry did not need to look around the brightly lit graveyard to know that they were alone. Was this some sort of trick?

“I decided it was unnecessary to bring my followers today,” Riddle said to no one in particular, as if he’d read Harry’s very thoughts. Perhaps he had. “They just get in the way, and this is between you and me alone.” He ended the sentence darkly, turning to glare into Harry’s emerald eyes.

Harry’s thoughts wandered back to the day in the courtyard before he could help himself, forgetting that Voldemort was still staring into his eyes. The deepening of the dark wizard’s scowl was all the confirmation Harry needed. Voldemort wanted to know what had happened at Hogwarts. That made two of them.

“So, Harry,” Tom purred, beginning to slowly circle the teen. “Care to tell me what it was that happened that day? I’m dying to know.”

Harry swallowed and raised his wand. Voldemort sliced his hand through the air and shook his head. “That will not be necessary. I just want to talk to you.”

“You never just want to talk,” Harry retorted spitefully, glaring bitterly at the circling snake.

Riddle seemed to consider this for a moment. “True, my tendency is for more physical means, most often,” he answered, trying to speak in an air of indifference, “But I too have to ability to speak my thoughts instead of acting them out, Harry. I trust you can remain civilized in a conversation?”

Harry snorted. “Civilized? There’s no civilized when it comes to you. You’re a monster.” He tensed when the Dark Lord stopped pacing.

“I do not appreciate that comment,” Tom hissed. “As I’ve said before, you are quite rude. You’ve no way with manner at all.”

“I save my manners for people who actually deserve them.”

Voldemort shot an icy glance at Harry before walked slowly towards the young man. Harry, in turn, began to retreat, walking backwards as if being cornered by some sort of prowling beast. “I don’t know what happened that day,” Harry said, hoping to Merlin that Voldemort would believe him and just let him be. “I already said that. I’ve got no idea what that was.”

“You are a liar, Harry Potter,” the serpentine man snapped, still advancing upon the shuddering boy. “You cast some sort of magic.”

“I did not!” Harry shouted, aggravated by the man’s belligerence. “I know as much as you do, okay? I didn’t cast a spell or take a potion or anything like that! I’d say the same thing under bloody veritaserum!”

“I’d be willing to test that theory.”

Harry paled. He shouldn’t have said that. Being under the influence of veritaserum in the company of Lord Voldemort was not the most welcoming of ideas.

Voldemort let out a dry chuckle and flick his wand slightly, sending Harry careening back into a familiar statue. He closed his eyes as he waited for the arms of the object to trap him once more, but Riddle seemed to find repetition unnecessary. Harry couldn’t move anyway. He must have been in a body bind of some sort.

Tom looked at Harry for a moment, apparently considering something. Harry could have sworn he saw the same flicker of indecision he’d seen before pass over the garnet eyes again. Voldemort was deciding on whether or not to touch him again.

Harry was torn. His green eyes darted around the graveyard. He wanted to know what happened as well, but was it worth the pain or close proximity to the Dark Lord? His scar was already burning, but he’d come accustomed to it, so he ignored it as much as he could.

Maybe it wouldn’t even happen again. Maybe before it had just been some sort of fluke. Maybe their eyes had momentarily deceived them.

Harry knew his self-convincing was futile, but he could see Tom going through the same struggle. They stared each other down, daring a decision to be made. Voldemort’s eyes hardened and his wand arm rose infinitesimally. Harry felt his throat clench as he wondered childishly if Voldemort would grab him there again.

Instead, the man slowly raised his wandless hand. It practically creaked upwards, moving at such a leisurely and hesitant pace that Harry found himself wishing that the man would just get it over with. Finally, the pale, spidery hand floated next to his cheek., hovering on the precipice of contact.

Harry was shocked to feel warmth emanating from the fingers. He’d thought for a while that Voldemort must have been cold blooded. Warmth seemed all to human. It was discomfiting.

Voldemort overcame his apparent indecision and rested his fingertips lightly on Harry’s flushed cheek. Within the breath of a second, he felt his body shiver and his eyes snapped open. Had he closed them? He surveyed the expression of the boy in front of him, painfully aware of where his own fingertips met the flesh of Harry’s cheek.

Harry’s eyes were wide and staring, shocked and disappointed. Tom’s eyes moved to his hand, which was tan and flushed once more. He couldn’t believe it. This time he couldn’t resist the temptation to run his hand through his hair. It was soft and short, just thick enough to entangle his fingers. He marveled at what he was experiencing. Harry almost seemed to be sharing his astonishment, watching silently as Tom touched his face, feeling his long nose and eyebrows.

Tom shivered, unsure of the emotions now running through him. Shock, anxiety, curiosity, and longing. Feeling this side of himself, he felt utterly lamentable about his true form. Was the snake-like visage who he really was? Or was this his real face? He was uncertain of himself now, and that infuriated him.

Harry was just as dazed. The man who touched his face was not the Voldemort he knew. This was someone else; and they looked frightened and unsure. The dark eyes refused to meet his own as they stared at the man’s free hand. His palm was stretched up at his face and he was expecting his flesh, flexing his fingers experimentally as if doing so would turn them back to normal.

This was completely surreal.

Harry hadn’t even realized that the body bind was off of him. Voldemort had been so distracted by his newfound appearance that he’d dropped it unknowingly. For some reason, Harry didn’t fear him anymore. The fear had left with the read eyes and domineering sneer. No all he saw was a man. He knew, of course, that Lord Voldemort was behind that façade, and he still felt the venom that accompanied that, but somehow his curiosity overrode that emotion.

Tom wasn’t paying attention, so it was easy for Harry to reach up and touch the wizard’s face. Voldemort started and his eyes darted up and locked with Harry’s. Harry didn’t know why he’d done it. Perhaps he’d just wanted to ascertain if the man before him was actually real. As soon as he done it, though, he regretted it. Appalled by his act, Harry turned away. He and Tom recoiled at the same time, both drawing back with looks of mingled horror and disgust.

Harry saw himself staring once more at Voldemort as he always had been in his life—inhuman and cold. The confusion was hidden behind ruby eyes and contempt had replaced it.

Harry’s stomach was in a tumult. He felt like he was going to throw up. He grimaced and clenched his fist. They stared at each other for another minute, warring with their eyes and thoughts.

Then, Voldemort turned on the spot and vanished with a crack.

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Btw, ‘criterion’ means a rule or principle for evaluating or testing something. Just in case you didn’t know. ‘Acumen’ from chapter six means keen insight; shrewdness. And ‘taction’ means the act of touching or contact. Thought you all might want to know that.

Anyways, there you go! Poor boys. They’re so confused! Mwahaha

This is the longest chapter yet, I believe. And if you can’t tell by now, I’m pro Snape and pro Malfoy. Most of the time, at least. No worries though. I promise that no Ron-bashing and no Dumbledore-bashing accompanies my like of the Slytherin. I find Ron to be adorable and I greatly respect Dumbledore. Hermione and Lupin and Sirius are safe too, I swear. As for Ginny….. I promise you nothing.

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